Reverie
by anagogic
Summary: This story is a one-shot set after 'The Mortal Cure' and explores why Mick may wear that much sought after pendant of his.


Reverie PG13 Oneshot

This story is set after 'The Mortal Cure' and explores why Mick may wear that much sought after pendant of his.

I must confess, I've never written fanfiction before and I'm not much of a romantic either. When it comes to Moonlight I'm a vampire fetishist at heart going more for the darker provocative fanfiction to read so can you imagine my shock when this little story started to circle in my head?

Me thinks I was channeling it for someone else too busy to write it so if you can just tell me who you are I can pass the remainder of the muse on to you. I feel like Lady MacBeth (pun intended) 'Out. Out damn story!

Oh and for those of you concerned this contains NO SPOILERS for episodes 13-16. Just sayin' k? Lol. If it's a mess feel free to let me know as I didn't have anyone else beta it before posting and I'm happy to hear any and all feedback!

-- REVERIE--

Beth approached the pier knowing he would be there torn between gazing out at the sun reflecting off the ocean and observing its many other spectators lounging in the sandy dunes below. His back was still facing her as his head tilted to reveal his profile when a group of noisy teenagers whizzed behind him on skateboards.

His eyes glistened and it was then that Beth realized it was not just the daylight Mick had wanted to bask in, he wanted to submerge himself in the light of others - the daily trivialities of a mortal existence.

_'An immortal man 85 years of age and he's fascinated by seagulls and hot dog stands'_, she mused.

Delving deeper into her reverie, Beth surmised that in some respects this must be like a second childhood for Mick. The carefree newness of it all crammed into weeks, months maybe. She was unexpectedly pulled from her thoughts as her head snapped to view a red Honda Civic coming abruptly to a halt on the street perpendicular to the pier. Its driver making full use of the horn to warn off inconsiderate pedestrians.

As she regained her composure, she turned to face Mick once again. The commotion had caught his attention as well but it wasn't what kept it. His eyes squinted against light being reflected off some unknown source but his smile was unmistakable. It washed over her. His back leaned against the wooden railing as Beth approached him with a smile of her own to offer.

"Hey."

"Well hey yourself", he greeted her warmly.

She quickly realized it had only been days since she had last seen him but like a soul lost in the vastness of the desert without water - every hour weighed heavily. She had struggled with the synchronicity of events. Josh's death. Mick's rebirth? Beth saw those before her battling against the nature of things within the ocean. She knew what that was like. She had struggled against the push and pull with waves of despair/guilt followed by elation/intrigue. It was a heady dance of undulating emotion that crashed over her wave after wave in the first few days after Josh had been buried.

Mick had been such a comfort to her at a time when it would have been completely justifiable to focus on his own needs. The frequency of his calls enough to convey he was genuinely there for her without impeding on her space. She recalled his swift appearance at her door only minutes after a particularly frantic phone conversation. He had taken her sobbed wrecked body into his arms in an intimate yet unexpectant and unassuming manner that was uniquely Mick.

A week after that catharsis something had finally permeated the haze. They were both in dire need of each others prescence. While Beth couldn't offer anything beyond that in her current state, isolation was of no benefit to either of them. This was a time for building upon what they already had.

And so it went that with reassurance from the man who now encompassed all that was companionship and intimacy, Beth had returned to work that second week. Much to her chagrin, she had allowed Mo to set a fevered pace in the spirit of making up for lost scoops.

Mick gently motioned for her to walk with him towards the vendors along the pier.

"So what was it today? Hotdogs again?" she teased.

"And ice cream", he interjected as he tossed the wrapper in the waste bin.

She couldn't help but let out a muffled giggle. "That'll kill you y'know."

Their eyes locked as he feigned mock seriousness and forced her to let out an overly exasperated sigh while tossing her hands up in the air. Mick's features returned to a more neutral expression.

"How about grabbing a coffee?" he suggested. "Something tells me you could use the caffeine."

Before she could argue, Mick had lead her to the quaint little coffee shop and had handed her a large no-foam hazelnut latte, her favorite. This was something he had quickly caught onto the first time Starbuck's had crossed their path.

"Thanks." she beamed grateful for his concern as well as the bittersweet warm liquid. "It seems I've become the one who's a creature of the night."

What Beth first thought was the acknowledgement of her jab registering on Mick's face quickly developed into an expression she had recognized all too well.

"You need to take better care of yourself Beth. There's no point in returning to work only to drive yourself back into a state of ..." he lingered trying to choose his next words carefully.

"I know", she acknowledged in an attempt to allow him out of the corner he had quickly painted himself into. "I told Mo I was taking the rest of the afternoon and evening off. I had a live report late last night and managed to tie up the loose ends for that story this morning."

Mick quirked an eyebrow. "And she was ok with that?"

Beth looked down at the cracks in the concrete sidewalk and grinned while recalling how the scene had played out only an hour earlier. "I believe Steve's comment about her resembling a wildebeest salvating over helpless field mice swayed things in my favor."

Mick exhaled through his nose and chuckled. "Well I'm glad someone at Buzzwire hasn't lost perspective."

Sending a quick playful glance his way she steered the conversation away from work. "Anyway that's why I'm here. I wanted to see how you were doing."

"How I'm doing?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes", she reasserted leaving the conversation wide open.

The question was simple enough and Beth had discovered this more joyful and carefree Mick, if given the opportunity, could be lulled into chatting with her about the more intimate details of his life. They had had conversations about his time serving in the war and how he had become a medic, what it was like after the war when he had returned home, what had prompted his interest in guitar and stories about the members of his band.

Beth had always allowed Mick to set the pace for the conversations. She had been careful to never lead him into a realm where she suspected he would refuse to follow comfortably. Mortal Mick had voluntarily unlocked the door and she recognized the fragility of this condition. It only took pulling on the wrong one to send the entire pile of skeletons cascading out of his closet leaving it empty and sending Mick back inside alone carefully locking the door from the inside this time.

The discussion took a light-hearted turn as they passed a stand selling St. Paddy's Day shirts and hats that read 'Kiss Me I'm Irish' and the like. Mick began to regale her with the drunken antics of his Uncle Colin who had caused his older sister, Mick's mother, more than her fair share of grief in covering for him.

Beth arched her brow, a question looming, "I thought you told me your father's side was irish and your mother's was french?"

"Yes" he replied without hesitation. "My mother's side of the family was a mixture of french AND irish. It was mainly irish on my father's side."

Beth gulped. Weighing the risk of her next statement. They had reached the end of the pier and it was getting later in the afternoon as the crowd had begun to fizzle out. Seeming to sense her hesitation Mick stopped in front of her and turned to face her.

"Beth what's wrong?", concern registering on his face once again.

She had decided today she was a gambling woman. "I just ... I thought that maybe your mother's heritage had something to do with ..." Beth had over estimated her courage.

"With?" Mick coached her along.

"... with the pendant you wear." she finished.

Beth silently scolded herself as she tilted her head to acknowledge the subject matter of her vocalization knowing full well this conversation could be headed back into darker territory. That was the last thing she should have encouraged.

_'Not now. Not now.'_

She couldn't take her eyes off of the pendant she had previously come to know as a cross fleury. In the midst of her turmoil she had convinced herself that locking her gaze on the item in question and refusing to meet Mick's had meant that she could undo what she had just said and any collateral damage that would ensue.

She had always pushed for more hadn't she? Previously Mick had needed that. He had needed someone to force him out of the self-imposed isolation. She had gained great appreciation for Josef in that respect. She had surmised from her limited exposure to him (and more importantly from her observations of the interactions between he and Mick), that though his age and arrogance gave him purchase, it was his quick slicing remarks that enabled him to disarm Mick. He'd leave Mick unable to counter any truly valid points the elder had made.

_'There's a method to any and all madness. Just because we don't see it, doesn't mean it isn't there.'_

"Beth!"

Suddenly coming out of the fog that even caffeine couldn't seem to fight off, Beth realized Mick had tucked his left hand under her chin to raise her head while simultaneously lowering his eyes. He waved his right hand back and forth inches from her face.

"Earth to Beth?"

"Sorry", she stammered taking the last sip of the latte and depositing the cardboard cup in the trash nearby before facing Mick again.

"Well?" he prompted clearly waiting for an answer to a question she had not heard. Beth's look of uncertainty conveyed to him _just that._ "Why do you want to know?" he repeated the question but it lacked any cold or defensive undertone that she had been expecting.

"I don't know ... I guess it's a beautiful piece and I did a little research into its meaning but it was vague at best" she countered. "I shouldn't have asked you that Mick."

"It's okay. Do you really want to know?"

The reply came without pause. "Yes."

Mick shifted his weight against the railing similar to the pose Beth had admired earlier before he knew she was there. His body language had become so free, so open and natural around her in the past few weeks. There was no need to disarm him and as quickly and quietly as the uneasiness found its way to her it had left on the ocean breeze.

His attention had seemingly been diverted as he looked down at a young family of four no more than fifty feet away from the pier. The father was trying to maintain order while the mother methodically packed up the food and supplies in an effort to call it a day. Another winning smile painted Mick's face as his features softened and his eyes crinkled.

Beth had thought it was his turn to get lost in silent reverie until he slowly began to explain; eyes still locked on the strangers below them.

"Yes. It's called a cross fleury" he said simply. "Though I can't claim a vast amount of knowledge on its official meaning ... I can tell you what it means to me."

Beth silently nodded for him to continue as he quickly stole a glance from her before facing the beach once again. "I told you my parents used to bring me to the Franklin Hotel on Sundays after church right?"

"Uh huh."

"It was a big deal for the family. Things were different back then. My father worked long hours and so it was the one day we all knew we'd be together. We'd dress in our Sunday best and after my mother had seen to us, she'd always pull a shawl over her shoulders before we headed out the door to church.

We were such a handful at that age that often times she'd throw her hands up in frustration and her shawl would fall from her shoulders. As a sort of peace offering once we became of age to realize how much she did for us my older brother, younger sisters and I decided to have a brooch custom made. Something that was one of a kind that she could use to fasten any throw she might continue to wear for church or formal events.

Ever since I could remember, my mother had always had a painting of a cross fleury in the living room of our house. She had mentioned in the years previous that she viewed the fleur de lis as symbolic of her french heritage and the shape they formed reminded her less of a cross but more of a four-leaf clover acknowledging her irish heritage as well.

She had always said it was a symbol of how fortunate she had been to be surrounded by family, by those she loved and held dear. It gave her encouragment and hope that any sacrifice or hardship was ultimately worthwhile. And so ..."

Mick began to trail off momentarily being understandably caught up in the emotion of his nostalgia. Beth slid a reassuring hand over his left shoulder. It trailed over the tense muscle to land, and remain nestled between his shoulder blades as he continued.

"We decided, like I said, to have a brooch custom made which we gave her for her birthday. Her smile when she saw all of us in the kitchen cooking dinner was enough to warm you but her expression when she opened that gift was indescribable. It was something that has been permanently etched in my mind. Needless to say, she wore it often and always close to her heart. After she passed away I would have given anything to have been able to have that one item as a keepsake but I couldn't risk going back there and it was silver so..."

Mick looked at Beth, his eyes rolling in disgust at the mention of both his vampirism and the woman who had given him life in the same sentence. Beth nodded her understanding wishing she could offer him empathy.

"After her death, after EVERYTHING , I just needed something to cling to and so I had this one custom made in white gold to wear on a chain long enough to be close ... to be close to my heart as she had worn it" he forced out.

Beth hesitated to comment. For once she didn't want to taint the purity of what he had just revealed to her with words. After several minutes had passed she withdrew her hand from his shoulder. Fearing Mick would interpret her withdrawal and silence as discomfort she placed her right hand over his left hand which had been tightly gripping the wooden railing. Her hand gently brushed against his, tentatively at first, and her warmth was a welcomed contrast to the cool early evening air.

Her hand rested squarely on top of his now and she threaded her smaller more delicate fingers in between his as her thumb gently caressed the side of his hand. It was an intimate gesture that mirrored the one he had given her when she had come to visit him after Josh's death. Nothing substantial physically. But it was wholly pure, sincere and exceedingly well timed.

"Mick" she gently spoke in little more than a whisper.

"Mmmhmm?" was all he managed still caught in a swirl of emotions.

"So it's a reminder of your mother and all the happy times in your past. That's beautiful" she admonished. "It must have gotten you through some terrible times."

"Beth is wasn't just a reminder. It was everything and anything when I needed it to be. When I was lonely it was family. When I was lost it was hope. But most importantly it was a symbol of the very first woman in my life. The one who instilled values in me that saw me through heartbreak, war and ..."

She gently squeezed his hand secretly aching to do more for him. "I know", she said relieving him of the duty of spoken words.

It was then his defenses truly crumbled. He turned to look at her. His face stripped bare displaying nothing but raw emotion and the vulnerability that came with it. Their hands never having broken contact it was his turn to give hers a squeeze. Beth used the contact to pull him towards her.

The top three buttons of his white shirt were undone revealing the catalyst for such an emotionally inviscerating conversation. Beth placed her left hand over the pendant. Her warm palm further comfort to him as she felt his heart beating underneath. They both tightened the grip on the other's hand seemingly melding into one.

Beth sighed and leaned into Mick's chest placing her cheek next to her hand and against his bare skin. She felt him let out a sharp intake of breath he hadn't realized he was holding in and the tension slowly drifted away from him towards the ocean.

"Thank You" she breathed contentedly. No further explanations were needed on either side as they simply enjoyed the comfort of the embrace.

Beth's gaze dropped to Mick's right hand as the sun's rays flickered off the intricate design of the ring on his index finger. She furrowed her brow unable to escape the ominous feeling that if a story existed behind that one ... it was best left unsaid.


End file.
